Wishing it Was
by eedd13
Summary: A young, slightly cynical homeless boy gets transported to the world of Artemis Fowl. PLEASE R&R! chapter 4 up now.
1. Rant to Many Things

I don't own Artemis Fowl, or this homeless kid. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
So I slipped on a banana peel. Stop the presses. I wiped the small amount of blood off my forehead. I almost laughed. Figure, the first time I've bled today, and it's like a cartoon. Figure.  
I'm hardly that meek. Which is probably why I don't inherit. Or maybe it's because I don't have any relatives. I don't know.  
Well what I do like is books. Yes, books are the only way I can escape from this society-dominated world into a fantasy world all my own. Or at least I share it with less of the population than I do the actual world. I don't know.  
Well I've always thought of my intellect as surplus. Retards call me dumb, and geniuses call me negligent. Normal people usually sleep in.  
So naturally, I like the smart books. The Babysitter's club really, really, really appalls me. Honestly, I'm more intrigued by Tom Clancy, and that's saying something.  
I tend to appeal to Artemis Fowl. He always ends up winning. That's the kind of life that I definitely want. In fact, now that I think about it, it's the only thing that I really want, or have ever wanted.  
Sure, the books that I mine out of the dumpsters usually have a few pages torn out, and the books that I steal generally get me into trouble. Oh well; when life gives you lemons, steal a Diet Pepsi.  
I've never been sad. Ever. My parents were killed before I was born. The doctor explained something, but it's all hazy now. Once in a while I look at these posh, fat women with their albino Yorkshire Terriers and their personal chauffeurs, and I think, God, sucks to be them.  
Once in a while I steal their purses, but whatever.  
Anyway, I was still bleeding. I walked up to a generous-looking gentleman.  
"Sir, do you have." He didn't let me say 'any tissues'.  
"Get a job, you lazy concotion of the lowest pits of hell," he said. Maybe he didn't know about child labor laws, but for a pain in the poop chute, he did have a good vocabulary. I acquainted him with my knuckles.  
Unfortunately, the cops were eating donuts at the corner malt shop. They ran/waddled as heroically as they could out of the shop and dove right at the chance to repeatedly thump me with their nightsticks. Still, there was no sadness. But there was a feeling. Regret. The over-paid cretins continued whacking me until they realized that I couldn't move. Honestly, cops are the stupidest people on the planet. All they do is take people down, they don't even care that they are provoked.  
"What's your name kid?" inquired one of the hideous beings.  
"Who wants to know?" I groaned.  
"I do," the other hideous being growled.  
"Fine then. Just don't immobilize me anymore."  
"Well kid! What is it?"  
"Dustin Shannon." 


	2. Plain Grey Walls

Once again, I don't own Artemis Fowl, but I do own my writing. BLAH! ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
They took me to jail. I greeted some of my friends once they plopped me into the cell. Tacroy, Fishhook, Pal, and Madcap. They were all my age. And they were all homeless.  
"What is it this time, Dusty?" asked Fishhook garishly.  
"I punched a guy for callin' me a bad name," I replied.  
"Concoction of the lowest pits of hell?" offered Tacroy.  
"Bingo." I walked over to a hanging bench and sat down. Sometimes, it felt good to be in between four walls and a ceiling. Even if they were all painted grey.  
Now that I was in jail, I had more privileges than what I did outside of it. Sometimes I'd punch a guy or steal something just to get behind bars. In here, you get TV with cable, food every day, and basketball. I wasn't much for sports, but sometimes it felt good to run. Between two hoops. And be limited by a painted rectangle. Hmm, maybe I won't play basketball next time.  
Anyway, the seats weren't padded. It really hurt my heiney to sit on them, but they were chairs. Chairs in jail.  
I whipped out a book from my back pocket, removed a rotten cherry from it, and opened it.  
"Whatcha reading?" asked Madcap casually.  
"Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code," I replied just as nonchalantly.  
Everyone started laughing except for Pal, who was mute. He smiled.  
"Isn't that a kid's book?" asked Fishhook. I gave him my favorite finger.  
"No, it's not a kid's book, Fishhook. It's a book that was written with kids on mind, and I like it, so if that doesn't appeal to you, then kindly go to hell."  
Madcap chuckled. "Well, I was going to tell you something that would 'appeal' to you, but naw to that now."  
"What were you going to tell me?"  
"We're planning a breakout."  
I sneered. "Great, I get in, and the first day, I'm already working for a solitary confinement. Jeez, do you guys ever take a rest and enjoy the luxuries of the rich people's tax money?"  
"Maybe you've just been in here for a few minutes, but we've been in here for months. It's getting really old."  
I thought about it. Maybe if I did leave, I could enjoy the tax money by stealing it.  
Usually, when I went along with this kinda stuff, I ended up getting beaten again. But this time, I thought it was worth it. My mind started cooking up a plan. I evaluated it, and decided that it would work.  
"Fine, I'll help." 


	3. Death and D'Arvit

God, prison was heaven. Really, it was better than heaven. Except for all that business about the breakout. Sure, it'd be nice to stay here a month, then break out, but I didn't have much of a choice. You can't negotiate with these guys.  
  
Anyway, the breakout happened on August 22. Everything went perfectly, until the breakout started. Then things went awry. First of all, Pal got caught while running because he got stuck on the fence and couldn't yell for help. Then Fishhook deserted all of us and hid in a garbage can. Madcap went crazy and started punching random inmates. Tacroy got away safely, I think. He was the only smart one. Then there was that whole thing about me being shot in the head.  
  
Anyway. I died. Is there really an alternative? Trust me, if there was, I wouldn't have taken it. I don't know.  
  
Then, I don't remember what happened. It was kinda like being born, backwards. It's hard to explain, but I'll try. When you're born, you come into the world, and you have no idea what's happening, because EVERYTHING is new. Not just the noise, and the looks of everything, but EVERYTHING is new. In death, it's like that. It's like burning a piece of yarn from both ends. You fall, and the bottom of the pit catches up to you.  
  
There's no way I can be cynical about what happened next. I woke up as quickly as if someone blew an air horn from the inside of my head. I was standing up, dressed in a white robe, embroidered with a loopy gold symbol on my chest. From above, it looked like an ant riding a laser printer. From the front, I suppose it would look like the letters DS. They labeled me.  
  
The next thing I remember. A yellow beam whizzed past my head, chipping my ear. By the time I got my hand up to my head to clutch the chip and stop the bleeding, I was on my back, with a small female person kneeling on top of me.  
  
"What the hell are you doing out here, you retard?" it said. Honestly, I was surprised to hear something talk.  
  
"I just came here, I don't know." I was at a complete loss for words.  
  
Three more rays, this time green rays, swooshed over her head. "D'arvit. Listen. There's a bunker over there." She pointed in the general direction over everywhere. "Go and stay there until things cool down." 


	4. The Redeemed One

No possess to me from Artemis or Fowl. (Ain't that funny? I used the Internet to translate to French then I translated it back to English! Apparently I'm not possessed by a Greek God and a duck. Hm.) I don't own Artemis Fowl. Or Jell-O. Or $800,000,000,000. Oh well. Side note: I hope you guys don't mind that I leaved the rant about "life and unexpectedness" than I promised in the author's note. #*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#*~#  
  
Well, what could I do? I knew I had to go to the base. Five thoughts flashed immediately through my head.  
  
I could die if I don't go to the base. Again. Okay, I don't think you can die if you're dead. So scratch that one. This little person seems a little stressed. I better comply with her. But she's only three feet tall. So scratch that one. My ear is still bleeding. Maybe at the base, they will have bandages to stop the bleeding. So I reached up to comfort my ear, and found that the chip was gone. So scratch that one. I need to go to a calm place to sort out my thoughts. This base seems calm. But then I looked behind the little woman and saw that there was some sort of canon shooting at a large, rock structure. So scratch that one. She said D'Arvit! I remember D'Arvit! Who said it, who said it? Oh yes! It was Holly! I looked down on this little woman. It was Holly!  
  
"What is it, kid? Go to the base right over there!" she pointed to the base, as if I couldn't see it. Then she her head to make sure she was pointing at the base, not the cave wall. She did a quick double take, and slapped her palm to her forehead. "D'Arvit! There's no way you're ever going to get in there." She looked up at me.  
I was at a loss for words. Somehow, I was in the world of Artemis Fowl. How? Had Colfer the Great been transported here? And if this existed down here, then what about the world on the surface? Surely there's a world up there, too! And was that world wasn't so different from mine before! Was I really dead? I definitely figured I needed somewhere calm to rearrange my thoughts.  
"What's wrong with you, kid!?" Holly pressed. "Can't you talk?!"  
"Yes!" I blurted. Then I remembered. "I'll help you!"  
Holly seemed to sort things over in her mind for a fraction of a second. "Fine."  
I interiorly both cheered and surrendered to my doom.  
"Stick close to me," Holly yelled over the battle. "Don't try to be a hero!"  
I nodded quickly. Holly advanced down the large field that we were standing on. Now that I reflect, there are many ways I could be cynical about this. But I really don't feel like interrupting my trauma.  
As we advanced, I noticed the battle started slowing down.  
"Psst!" I whispered to Holly, thinking that if I called her by her name, she would think that was strange. She turned to face my direction. "Where are we going?" I wondered.  
"Their base," she responded solemnly.  
"Whose-" SHEEEW-BLAM! A bomb exploded nearly ten feet away from us. I was knocked on my feet, but Holly only bended at the knees a little. She immediately sprinted over to me.  
"Are you alright?" she pressed.  
"Yeah, I'm fine." She helped me get to my feet. I brushed myself off. "Who are we figh-" I began.  
"GET DOWN!" Holly bellowed.  
I wondered why for about 2/5 of a second, and then decided that I should get down. I made this decision when I saw about thirty. things. advance on the crater. They looked like they were made of Jell-O. But that thought dismissed from my head when one of them slid straight through a large rock.  
"Shield!" their leader called. All of them looked in the leader's direction and changed into a translucent white mist. They were ghosts. All of these thoughts ran through my head in about 3/5 of a second. Then Holly pulled me down.  
"Ghosts." She whispered the answer to the question that I had asked about two seconds ago. I nodded.  
"We can't kill them unless they carbonize," she explained. After she saw the blank look on my face, she added, "That's when they turn into jelly." I nodded.  
"What can we do?" I asked.  
"Just don't make any sounds louder than a faint whisper," she whispered faintly. "Their ears are on the inside of their bodies."  
I nodded. We waited there for what seemed like an eternity, but was actually about 15 seconds. The ghost leader told his company to fall back.  
Holly stood up slowly and peered over the small boulder we were hiding behind. "They're gone."  
I rose to a kneel. "Good," I either inwardly or outwardly said.  
Holly looked at me nonetheless. "What's your name kid?" she asked. I told her. "How did you get here?" she asked. I told her. She sighed.  
"You're the second person to have ever said that," she said reminiscently. "The first was named Eoin Colfer."  
I was slightly surprised about how she pronounced his name. I had always thought it was 'Yoin' or something like that. "Wow," I muttered. I was right about Colfer, then. He had been here. And he had written a book about it. But how did he know all the stories about Artemis, then? I concluded that he had been with them on all of their adventures, and had just omitted himself from them when he wrote the books. My mind supplied the fact that that must have been a little difficult. But you may thank your God that I'm not omitting myself out of this story.  
Holly looked over her shoulder. "It looks like they've stopped firing on the base. Come on."  
We started making our way carefully to the base. We stopped four times because of ghosts. But when we finally reached the base, a voice coming from a small black box on the outside wall said nervously, "Who's he?"  
"A human, Foaly. Open up. He's safe." The massive door in front of us trembled, and slid open. We stumbled inside.  
I needn't describe the inside of the base, as you have most likely read the Artemis Fowl books. But when we went inside, Foaly immediately pressed a button with his forehead and the door behind us slid shut. He pressed the door button with his forehead because he was carrying a small, pathetic-looking gun in each trembling hand. "Who's this?"  
"Dustin Shannon," I introduced myself. I didn't bother to shake his hand. It looked as if he wouldn't put those guns down until you poked his eyes with a red-hot skewer.  
"Ah. I see," he said in quick breaths.  
"He told me the same thing Eoin told us," said Holly, then turned to me and whispered in my ear, "He doesn't like war very much."  
"Yeah," I said. I didn't even bother forming a complete sentence. First impressions were completely dashed.  
"You'll probably want to get up to the surface," said Holly.  
"Do you really want to send an egg just for me?" I asked.  
Holly's face went completely straight. "How do you know about that?"  
"Eoin Colfer wrote books when he returned to the surface. About your adventures," I admitted. Noticing the grave look on both of their faces, I added, "Humans think they're fiction, though. Well, except for me and Eoin, of course."  
Holly relaxed a bit. "The next shuttle leaves in an hour. We'll still be able to buy you tickets."  
"Okay," I said. Then I added, "Thank you." 


End file.
